Grief, Grace & New Beginnings

In the midst of grief, while learning how to navigate life again, there are days you just can’t. You just won’t. And you don’t have to.

That is okay.

There are days you feel weak, overwhelmed, angry, bitter, betrayed, sometimes all within five minutes. Grief has a way of cycling through every emotion possible before you can even catch your breath.

And that is okay too.

But can we talk about the worst thing you can hear on those days?

“You are the strongest person I know.”
“You’re so strong. You can do this.”
“Your strength comes from the Lord.”

All of those well-meaning phrases about strength that make you want to throw fists and scream, I don’t want to be strong.

Guess what?

You don’t have to be.

When I lost Jason, it felt like my world shattered in an instant. In a matter of minutes, I experienced every emotion grief has to offer. My faith, which wasn’t the strongest to begin with, was shaken even more.

And when people would say, “The Lord will never give you more than you can handle,” or “Your strength comes from the Lord,” I wanted to scream.

Oh yeah? Then let me be real for a minute.

Why did God take Jason?
Why was this His plan?

I didn’t want to hear about God. I didn’t want to try to make it make sense because it didn’t make sense. It couldn’t make sense. How was I supposed to give God credit for my strength when what I believed was His plan was what broke me in the first place?

In the beginning, I shut down. I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want to be around anyone. I isolated myself so I wouldn’t have to hear the comments or be told what I “should” be doing. Exactly what everyone says not to do.

I surrounded myself with people I thought were good for me. Looking back, the only people it was good for were the ones benefiting from my presence. They weren’t building me up. They were breaking me down, and I didn’t even realize it.

So where does strength really come from?

Strength comes from what you allow to guide you through your grief.
It comes from your outlook.
It comes from the right people.

There is no manual for grief. No step by step guide. But there are tools.

There were days I screamed at God. Days I fought with Him because I was angry. But even on my worst days, there was the smallest glimmer of hope buried deep in my heart. I didn’t always feel it, most days I didn’t, but it was there.

Jason has been gone for 908 days today. It wasn’t until a little over a year ago that hope slowly started to grow.

My faith didn’t return overnight. It has been a slow, stretching, uncomfortable process. But I began to feel like the Lord was giving me strength in a different way. Not by removing my grief, but by helping me create new beginnings. Helping me grow. Helping me see that maybe strength wasn’t about surviving the unbearable. Maybe it was about allowing Him to walk with me through it.

My outlook began to change. I wasn’t as angry. Don’t get me wrong, there are still days I want to punch the gates of heaven wide open. But my heart softened.

I started seeing grief differently. I became thankful that Jason is where he is. Because why on earth would I want him back in this broken world if he is living in perfection? My human side wanted him here. Of course it did. But my spiritual side began to rejoice knowing he knew the Lord and is living an everlasting life.

I realized I couldn’t stay mad at God forever. He gave Jason a gift that is eternal. I only had Jason temporarily, and heaven was always his goal.

Finding strength in the right people was one of the biggest eye openers for me. We like to think friends or even family will automatically be our safe place. Sometimes they are. Sometimes they aren’t.

Sometimes it is the stranger in the grocery store who notices the tears rolling down your face as you attempt to shop for the first time, staring at a cart filled with memories, and simply holds your hand.

Sometimes it is new coworkers who unexpectedly become family and quietly acknowledge your hard days without trying to fix them.

Sometimes it is the random message that says, “I’m praying for you.”

And sometimes it is who the Lord places in your life when you least expect it. The person who helps you begin a new chapter more beautiful than you could have imagined. Someone you not only find love in again, but strength in. Hope in. Someone who helps carry you on the days your strength is not there.

Here is what I have learned.

Your strength is your strength for a reason.

It is okay to have weak days.
It is okay to have the I can’t, I won’t, and I don’t days.

But when you are walking through the storm and you catch even the smallest glimpse of light, stop and give yourself credit.

Because you kept going.
Because you are still here.
Because even when you did not want to be strong, you survived.

And that means something.

You are not strong because people say you are.
You are strong because you are still standing in the middle of what tried to take you out.

You are stronger than the storm.

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” -Psalm 34:18